Rain
by Lime Sweet Pea
Summary: Though she hated to admit it, Stella was a hopeless romantic. She figured that her life was now at the time where she admits to the guy her true feelings and they live happily ever after.


**So it's been a while but I have another random oneshot. I have no idea where it came from but oh well. I hope everyone enjoys it. Thanks in advance for reading.**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the CBS Company.**

**Rain**

Rain in New York City was nothing short of a hassle. An adverse inconvenience to all that found themselves caught in its wake. The precipitation's aptitude for completely changing the course of a day made clear its supremacy over all other authorities. The strength in the weather was obvious as the city echoed with the ever going patter of the drops against each and every surface. As the concrete walls of the cities' infamous skyscrapers held strong against the rapid drops, others were forced to yield to its mounting power. Newly sprung leaves showed no resistance, falling with the rain to hang heavy from branches. Papers littered across the busy streets showed no will to fight, flattening against the ground to soon become nothing more than disintegrated memories. The skies no longer held bright blue hues as previous spring days had offered but instead left the city blanketed in a gray cloud, leaving the sun no opening to project its shinning rays. Yet the determination of some to brave against the weather's assault proved to be an honorable contender. Those showing the courage to venture into the weather's conquered territory armed themselves with umbrellas and raingear alike, using all they could to show their strong will to resist nature's attack.

A member of the elite group, she made her way down the busy street, careful to keep her umbrella in control against the heavy winds. Her fingers gripped the handle tight in attempt to hold it steady against the vicious rain. She thought for a moment the purpose for even holding on the parasol as the rain seemed to be falling sideways, an occurrence that would surely revoke all the laws of gravity. Despite an attempt to keep her face down, it still seemed to become increasingly wet, matting the dangling curls against her face. Looking up, her olive eyes squinted as she tried to peer ahead in curiosity to how soon she would reach her destination. Seeing the familiar red sign just ahead, Stella ducked her head once more and sped up, the feeling of being inside enough motivation to drive her increasing pace.

Within moments, her hand reached out to open the heavy glass door. She skillfully held it open with her hip while turning to close the umbrella yet failed to deter the drops from making one final splash on her face. With an aggravated sigh, she moved completely inside, shaking off the umbrella before leaning it against the wall. Running a hand over her face, she turned around taking in the décor that never failed to impress her.

Enclosed with walls of a deep ocean blue and mahogany wood trimming, Belladonna's was probably the most beautiful restaurant Stella had ever stepped foot in. It defines the quote 'less is more' with its simplistic interior. Not filled with tables covered in white or large exotic plants along walkways, a guideline that many Manhattan restaurants seemed to follow, Belladonna's was always a breath of fresh air to walk into. On that particular Tuesday night, it was seemingly empty, only a few patrons seated among the tables and booths. Some she recognized as regulars, armed with their business folders and laptops. Seeing as how it was always late when she came, she considered herself and a few others in the rather late group of customers.

With her annoyance in the weather slowly dissipating, Stella leisurely made her way past the glass tables that lay in the center of the restaurant to the bar, taking a seat in one of the stools. Not caring to look at the menu in front of her, Stella rested her hands in front of her, her mind going back to the day's event. It had been seemingly usual, except for one detail.

Mac.

He, much to everyone's surprise, had taken the day off. She had never known to take a day off from work without reason, a reason she was usually aware of. She had been asked a few times of his whereabouts throughout the day. Danny had even go as far to comment that him being off and Stella not knowing was a sign that the world was going to end.

While she had laughed at his comment, she had wondered why Mac hadn't told her anything. That particular thought alone earned another laugh from her. She wasn't his girlfriend. He wasn't obligated to tell her anything. But for some reason, she couldn't seem to shake it.

She didn't know why she seemed almost…hurt.

With the shake of head, Stella pushed the thought aside. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, her mind to come up with too many things to think of. She brought her thoughts back to the restaurant just in time to hear a familiar voice booming from behind the kitchen door.

"Is that my Stella I see?"

Stella smiled brightly as Baruti appeared from behind the door, his bright white teeth contrasting heavily with his dark skin.

Baruti Adeoye had always been fascinating in Stella's opinion. The owner of the Italian restaurant, he hailed from Africa, his heavy accent justifying the account. Born in Nigeria, Baruti had been a world traveler, always telling Stella stories about the rough desert winds in Saudi Arabia, the rough seas off the Australian coast, and the beautiful artwork in the art museums of France. Her favorite story was always of the beautiful woman he met while in Italy. He would always tell of how she had taught him to cook, taste, and feel food. They had fallen in love but due to cultural differences, they were never allowed to marry. He told her that he was going to New York and that she promised to meet him there. To this day, he says that he is still waiting. Baruti never said this mystery woman's name but Stella always imagined it to be the name behind the restaurant.

"Hey Baruti," she greeted back, bringing her elbows to rest on the countertop.

"Why my beautiful girl, you seem so drenched. You know, the rain should know not to rain on a face as graceful as yours" he said, taking in her appearance.

"Yeah well, I wish that were true," She said with a chuckle.

"Yes well, I'll see to it," he said with the point of a finger.

Stella couldn't help but smile at the older man. His deep brown eyes rested upon his wrinkled face, holding a twinkle in them that never died.

"What do you have for me today?" Stella asked, biting her bottom lip in curiosity.

"Something I know for sure you'll like," he started, his eyes gleaming. "A fresh plate of gnocchi covered in my new marinara."

Stella swore she felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of her favorite dish. After coming to the restaurant for years, she and Baruti came to a unique tradition. On days he had a new idea he wanted to try, he would give it to Stella. Any other days, he would treat her to her favorite meal.

Today seemed to be one of those days.

"I'll be right on it. How about some wine while you wait?" he asked playfully, full well knowing the answer.

"Have I ever said no?" she answered with a laugh.

"No, no, I guess you haven't. I tell you Stella, you are such a joy. I am saddened by the thought that one day you will longer need my food," he said was he poured from the bottle he acquired from beneath the counter.

"How many times have I told you that that day will never come," she replied.

"I hope that that is so," he said. He gave her once last smile before turning to go back to the kitchen. "Eight minutes!" he yelled over shoulder, just as the door swung close.

Stella chuckled at his antics before picked up the glass. She swirled it around before bringing it up to her lips.

"Stella?" the voice came through the air before she could take a sip.

Stella turned her head in surprise, her suspicions confirmed the moments she saw his face. "Mac."

He gave her a small smile before moving to the stool next to her. She quickly took in the fact that he wasn't wearing his usual suit but instead wore jeans. Something about his appearance made her heart race. She figured it had been a while since she'd seen him in jeans, which led her to lose the memory of how good he looked in them. She couldn't hide the growing smirk her lips seemed to be creating.

"What?" he questioned, her expression more noticeable than she had intended.

"Nothing," she said quickly, letting her smile show fully. "You know, you scared us all for a minute there."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well Mac, the last you took a day off was what, the day Lucy was born? She's almost a year old." Stella said with playful twist of her lips before finally taking a sip from her wine.

Mac let out a laugh as he shifted to completely face the bar. He moved his elbows to rest on the surface, before turning his head to her. "I don't know, I guess I just love the job. Maybe too much."

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I love it too, but everyone needs a break. It was a nice surprise to know that you took a Mac-day."

"A Mac-day?" His questioned came with another set of raised eyebrows.

"You know, Mac-day, Stella-day, whatever you want to call it. All it means is it was a you-day," she explained, laughing inwardly at how this all seemed new to him.

"Well, a friend needed help moving into a new apartment, so I figured I'd just take off," he explained, playing with the corners of the napkin that lay in front of him.

"Oh that's nice. Are they new to the city?" she asked before another sip.

"Yeah, she is."

Stella would be lying if she said that the word 'she' didn't stand out in his statement. She couldn't help the slight pang of jealousy that ran through her body. She didn't know Mac was seeing anyone. _He didn't say that Stella_, she told herself. For a moment, she found herself laughing on the inside at her immediate sense of betrayal.

Stella didn't know why, but she always felt that she and Mac had this unspoken relationship. They ate dinner together all the time, visited each other apartments so much that they had been confused to be living together. True, no official get together had ever been called a date but they might as well had. She always had to laugh at the fact that she was pretty much in love with Mac Taylor but had never been able to do anything about it.

Though she hated to admit it, Stella was a hopeless romantic. She loved to watch movies with the over used plot: boy meets girl, girl meets boy. She loved a happily ever after. She always found the scenes in the rain to be the most beautiful. In the back of the mind, she made her own life into a movie. Rough childhood, defying the odds, living her dream. All that was left to fall in love.

Done.

She figured that her life was now at the time in the movie where she admits to the guy her true feelings and they live happily ever…

"Stella?"

Baruti's voice interrupted her train of thought. She looked up to see him standing in front of her, plate in hand.

"Oh sorry," she said as he stood the plate in front of her. She looked down at the food; impressed how the simple food was arranged in such a way it seemed to be a piece of art. "Wow, this looks great Baruti. Thanks."

"No problem," he insisted, before eyeing Mac. His eyes darted between Mac and Stella before she finally noticed.

"Oh Baruti, this is Mac Taylor, we work together. Mac, this is Baruti Adeoye, he owns the restaurant," Stella introduced, smirking at Baruti's obvious idea about her and Mac.

The two men exchanged handshakes before Baruti asked for Mac's order.

"Oh no, thank you. I'm actually waiting for a friend," he responded.

Stella looked over curiously, that particular detail unknown to her. She opened her mouth to make clear her interest, wondering if it was the same 'she' who he had helped move earlier.

"Mac?"

The voice, unknown to her, came before she had a chance to speak. She turned her head to find an attractive brunette standing behind them. Upon seeing Stella turn, she gave a small smile before looking towards Mac who had stood from his seat.

She watched as his eyes met the woman's and seemed to garner more glow than they had held previously. "Hi," he told her softly.

"Hey," she replied, before turning to look at Stella. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything," she stated apologetically.

For a moment, Stella considered telling the woman that she did in fact interrupt but she withheld the out of character desire and instead stretched out her hand. "Oh no, you didn't. Stella Bonasera," she introduced.

"Aubrey Hunter," the woman said, returning the greeting.

"Baruti."

Stella rolled her eyes at Baruti's attempt to stay in the conversation. "And that's Baruti," she added.

Aubrey smiled sweetly before turning to Mac. As if picking up on unspoken words, he nodded before turning to Stella.

"Well, it was nice seeing you here."

The comment bothered Stella. It came as he she was just a friend who he saw on occasion. She however, held back the frown that was threatening to come forward and only smiled instead. "You too. Enjoy your dinner," she offered, looking between the two.

"Thanks," Aubrey spoke up. "Do you know what's good?"

"Everything."

Baruti's comment earned a laugh from everyone. He offered to show Mac and Aubrey to a table before promising Stella that he would be back.

All she could was nod as she watched the pair follow him to their table. She watched them sit, Aubrey's back to her but Mac in full view. She watched Baruti hand them their menus. She watched them thank him.

She watched Mac as he never seemed to stop smiling.

Suddenly, it all became too much. She turned back to her meal, her appetite, large and hungry before, turn into nothing more than a memory. Dropping her fork in her plate, she folded her hands in front of her, doing her best to stop the waves of emotions from flooding through her body.

Too late.

She didn't know why it all seemed to hurt so much. It did. It felt like she had just been stabbed in the heart. The feeling may have seemed to be preposterous to anyone else. She didn't have any reason to feel the way that she did. Yet, the feeling didn't go away. Instead, it slowly sank further into her, her shoulders becoming increasingly heavier. Daring to make the moment worse, she looked over her shoulder their direction, not sure of what she wanted to see, but knowing full well what she didn't.

She saw his smile. She could hear him laugh.

"Stella."

Baruti's deep voice entered her ear, prompting her to turn around.

She looked up at him and knew that he was reading her mind. How he did so; she had no idea but she didn't care.

"_Se la sua vuol essere, si verifichera in tempo bello"_ The Italian rolled off his tongue in a way that almost made her want to question his true heritage.

"I know," she replied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know what, do you think I can get this to go?"

Baruti looked at her, deep down inside wanting to deny her request but knowing that he couldn't. "Sure."

She watched him as she took her plate back to the kitchen. She ran a hand over her head, just remembering the condition they were in thanks to the rain. She inwardly groaned at the prospect of Mac seeing her in such a condition.

Clearly it didn't matter anymore.

Baruti quickly returned with her bag. She thanked him and dug into her purse for her wallet. He however held up his hand and shook his hand. "Not today," he said with a wink.

She smiled and promised to return soon, a promise that they both knew would be carried through.

As she made her way past the tables she didn't bother to turn back towards Mac's table. She didn't care anymore. Moving towards the door, she pushed it open and stepped out, the rain coming down in full force. It was then she remembered that her umbrella was still inside, yet she made no move to retrieve it.

She stood still in the rain, letting it fall down on top of her. Her hair, which was on its way to being dry, went back to its stringy state, stealing the beauty her curls naturally held. She didn't care. All she knew was that they hid the tears that were streaming down her face. With one last sigh, she moved forward, hailing a taxi as it pulled up no longer having the energy to walk the five blocks to her apartment.

Rain in New York City was nothing short of a hassle. An adverse inconvenience to all that found themselves caught in its wake.

**So this story ignores the idea that Aubrey and Stella ever met in 6x18. Thanks again for reading. Reviews are always appreciated. :D **


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